


First Time's the Worst

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward First Times, First Time, Humor, M/M, Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Voldemort makes plans involving a sort of virgin sacrifice, drastic measures must be taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time's the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest, Challenge # 67 – First Time Sex Disaster

Dumbledore looked around at the assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix, his face unusually grave. "I'm afraid we have news of a most distressing nature. Severus, if you'd tell everyone what you've learned?" 

Snape looked around at the assembled group. "As you all know, for the past two years, Voldemort has been seeking a way to regain his full powers. It appears that he's discovered a way to do this." He paused, letting his words sink in. 

"Don' leave us in the dark, Pr'fessor," Hagrid said. "What's You-Know-Who come up wi' now?" 

"He believes that if he were to have carnal relations with a virginal male, he would absorb his partner's vitality and regain his full health." 

"Damned if I've known another as good at pussy-footing around a matter," Sirius Black said with a snort. "What you mean is that the son of a bitch needs to get laid." 

"If you please, Mr. Black!" McGonagall said indignantly. "Such a display of language is not called for!" 

Ignoring her, Black said to Snape, "Pitching or receiving?" 

"Both," Snape said. He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. "He would first be penetrated by the young man, to temporarily give him strength from the semen received. He would then - as Black would say - bugger the lad to absorb the rest of the magical powers and physical attributes." 

"And what happens to the unfortunate young man?" Pomfrey asked. 

"He would be reduced to dust." 

"Rotten luck, that," Hooch said. "Expect that it cut down on the number of volunteers." 

An amused smile touched Snape's lips. "I must admit, I have never before seen such a whole-scale scramble among young men to lose their virginity, nor such encouragement from parents to do so." 

Professor Sprout snorted. "Nice to see such loyalty among the Death eaters." 

Snape shrugged. "They are self-centred at heart and none willing to give up their lives or their heirs, even for such a 'noble' cause." 

"Well, that puts paid to that plan," Sirius said with satisfaction. Noticing that Dumbledore still looked concerned, he added, "Doesn't it?" 

"It would, if Voldemort weren't so --obsessed -- with a certain young man." 

"Harry?" Sirius said, his face darkening. "The perverted bastard! I'll kill him if he so much as touches Harry!" 

"A far more practical plan would be to ensure that Mr. Potter no longer interests You-Know-Who," Dumbledore said. "Sirius, Harry confides in you. Are you aware of the, um, state of his virginity?" 

Sirius flushed slightly. "We've talked," he admitted. "Harry's asked for advice about certain -- inclinations, but he - um - hasn't..." 

"Talk about pussy-footing around," Hooch said disgustedly. "So Harry's admitted an interest in playing for the other team, but hasn't picked a batter yet." 

"Xiomena!" McGonagall exclaimed, then turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, surely this is something that should be discussed with Mr. Potter. _In private_." 

"We cannot afford a delay in this matter," Dumbledore said firmly. "Steps must be taken to ensure that Mr. Potter's chastity is breached, for his own good. Since this cannot become common knowledge, and since Harry seems to have no preferences, it is only logical that this task fall to one of us." 

Sirius looked at Dumbledore in alarm. "Albus, if you're suggesting --Harry's like a _son_ to me! I couldn't possibly!" 

"What about Mr. Lupin?" McGonagall asked. "He and Harry seemed to have something of a rapport while he was teaching here. If you wouldn't mind, of course," she added hastily, as it was well known among the Order that Remus and Sirius were intimately involved. 

"Full moon," Sirius said with a sigh. "He'll be out of it for the next few days. Unless you think we could wait," he said, glancing over at Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore shook his head regretfully. "I regret not. As for myself, not only am I too old, but I don't, as Xiomena delightfully phrased it, play for that team. Since both Hagrid and Professor Flitwick's physiologies are incompatible with Harry's, that leaves only one choice." 

Snape had been staring unseeingly at his steepled fingers, ignoring the conversation around him. As sudden silence fell over the room, he looked up questioningly and realized that eight pairs of eyes were fixed on him. If possible, he paled even more. 

"Albus, you can't be serious. Potter and I barely _tolerate_ each other." 

"Albus, no!" Sirius roared. "I'd rather it was just about anyone other than that bastard!" 

"Even Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes locking on Sirius', a look of steely determination in them. Sirius had to look away, and then Dumbledore turned his eyes toward Snape. "And Severus, young Harry is not the only one at risk here. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone." 

Snape closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, as another stunned silence fell over the room. 

"You?" Sirius asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. "You're a _virgin_ , Snape?" He suddenly burst out laughing. "Well, of course you are! Who in their right mind would bed a greasy git like yourself? Gagging-desperate, they'd have to be." 

Snape pushed back abruptly from the table. "If you'll excuse me, Albus. I have work to do." Without so much as a glare in Sirius' direction, he strode towards the door, pausing with his hand on the handle as Dumbledore called out his name. 

"Severus. I'll send Harry down this evening." The tone in his voice left no room for argument. 

Snape's shoulder's slumped and he said lowly, "If you must, Albus." Then he opened the door and left. 

Sirius looked up, still chuckling, as he felt several pairs of eyes on him. McGonagall's were especially reproachful, and he felt as if he was a young boy again. "What?" he said defensively. 

"That was an unkind thing to say," she said reprovingly. "Did it ever occur to you that there's a _reason_ why Severus has remained - untouched?" 

Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well, you know what he's like! How he looks! Who's going to go for someone like him?" 

"I would," Hooch said abruptly, standing up. "If it weren't for the fact that we both fancy our own gender." She strode out of the room. 

"He's nowt so bad at that," Hagrid added, giving Sirius a reproachful look, as if the animagus had maligned one of his pets. "A might bit touchy, mind you. Needs the right kinda handlin', I expect." He rose to his feet as well and left. 

"Severus has a way of focusing intently on whatever he is interested in," Pomfrey added. "I expect it would be quite something to have all that attention focused on one." She looked towards Dumbledore. "If we're quite through, Headmaster, I have patients to look after." 

Dumbledore waved dismissal and she left, following by Sprout and Flitwick. Sirius sat where he was, uncomfortably aware of the Headmaster's eyes on him. 

"Albus," he said imploringly. "Surely there's someone else. Ron Weasley - " 

" - is engaged to Hermione Granger," McGonagall finished. 

"Then one of his other mates. Someone from another House, even." 

"And what explanation would we give for the haste needed in this matter?" Dumbledore asked. "What about Severus? Would you leave him vulnerable to Voldemort's machinations?" 

Sirius wanted to say "Yes!" but was aware that there was a limit to Dumbledore's patience so he bit his tongue. 

"Sirius," Dumbledore said sternly. "I expect you to refrain from harassing either Harry or Severus about this matter. Both now, and in the years to come." 

Sirius' head jerked up. " _Years_?" he asked incredulously. "But I thought -surely you don't think - " The look on Dumbledore's face told him that the Headmaster not only _thought_ but in that inexplicable way of his _knew_. "Merlin's balls!" Sirius lunged to his feet, intent on following Snape, but a well-timed hex dropped him to the floor. 

"Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said, looking down at the Stupified body. "I would be grateful if you'd contact Remus and tell him we're sending Sirius to him by port-key, and to keep him there for the next few days, at all costs." 

"Certainly, Albus." She looked over at the Headmaster. "I take it you plan to give Mr. Potter this news in person?" 

Dumbledore nodded and then, at the look of concern on her face, said, "It will be fine, Minerva. Trust me." 

* * *

Despite the fact that Snape was expecting the knock on his door, he couldn't help flinching at the sound. Drawing a deep breath, he attempted to regain some of his customary dignity before he called out, "Enter!" 

The door opened and, as expected, Harry Potter entered. A Harry Potter that looked as shaken as Snape felt. For some reason, this was oddly comforting, and he found himself responding with his usual asperity. 

"Well? Are you just going to stand there in the doorway, gaping, or are you going to come in?" 

Harry looked as if he would dearly like to choose the first option, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He swallowed and came further into the room, closing the door behind him. 

He cleared his throat. "I've just been speaking with Professor Dumbledore, and he says that we have to -- that we must -- " Harry broke off, flushing in embarrassment. 

Snape let an amused smile settle on his lips and raised a sardonic eyebrow. It worked. 

Harry exploded. "Don't give me that look, you bastard! I know you want to do this as little as I do!" 

"Don't rate your charms so low, Potter," Snape sneered. He gracefully settled in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. "And stop hovering about like that." 

Harry plopped into the other chair and ran a hand through his hair, further dishevelling it. Snape would rather have died than admit it, but he found the tousled look rather endearing. 

"Do you have to be such an absolute git?" Harry asked, glaring at him. 

"Do you have to be such an imbecilic brat?" Snape countered. He picked up a flagon from the table between them and poured an inch of the potent liquor into each of the snifters sitting there. "Here." 

Harry picked up the glass. "What is it?" 

Snape barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Brandy. Expensive brandy, at that. To be sipped, not guzzled like butterbeer, Mr. Potter." 

"You're giving me alcohol?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Why?" 

"To get you drunk and have my wicked way with you, of course." Snape gave an exasperated sigh. "Use what passes for a brain for once, Potter. The brandy is to help both of us relax, so we can get through this ordeal with a minimum of embarrassment on both our parts." 

Harry sipped at his drink. It was surprisingly good; much better than the cooking wine Ron sometimes snuck for them when Harry was visiting the Weasleys. He took a bigger sip and gave Snape a curious look. "So you're not, you know, looking forward to this?" 

Snape did roll his eyes now. "Of course. How could I not? Imagine, losing one's virginity at the age of forty to Famous Harry Potter. Perhaps I'll give Rita Skeeter an exclusive interview afterwards, on just how it felt to have an inept, inexperienced, and," he glanced over at Harry, who had just poured himself a little more brandy, "probably drunken brat stuff his prick up my arse and bugger me senseless. If I'm lucky, I might even get an Order of Merlin, First Class, for this." 

Harry flushed angrily. "I can't help it if I'm inexperienced!" he said hotly. "I'm only seventeen!" 

"Mr. Potter, by now you are probably the only seventeen year old virgin in this school," Snape said dryly. "With the possible exception of Mr. Longbottom." 

"Well, what's your excuse?" Harry snapped. "You'd have thought that at your age, you'd have had the chance to get laid at least _once_!" 

"Has it ever occurred to you, Mr. Potter, that I maintained my chastity for a valid _reason_?" Snape said frostily. 

Harry blinked a little owlishly as he considered this. "No, it hadn't," he said honestly. " _Was_ there a valid reason?" 

Snape shrugged. "Not particularly. The thought of becoming intimate with another person, sharing body fluids among other things, has simply never appealed to me." 

Harry made a face. "Now that you mention it..." 

"The fact that most of my acquaintances equate sex with violence and prefer it as a group sport put quite a damper on my interest in the matter as well." 

"I can see that," Harry said feelingly. "And the thought of You-Know-Who touching me like that..." 

The two men shivered in unison and drained the last of their brandy. 

"Well," Snape said briskly. "I suppose we'd best get at it." He stood up and led the way over to the bed. 

Harry glanced longingly at the brandy bottle but reluctantly got up and followed Snape. He winced as he caught sight of the large bed, hung in green and black. "There's no doubt what House _you_ were in." 

Snape frowned at him. "I like green." 

"I never would have guessed," Harry said under his breath. 

"You may use the bathroom to prepare yourself and change," Snape said decisively. "There is a Potion bottle on the sink; I trust its use will be self-explanatory. I have already bathed so I will change in here." 

Harry escaped into the bathroom and picked up the bottle on the sink. He read the label, recognizing it as a Potion intended to clean out the body, and made a face. No, there was no doubt as to what this was for. 

He stripped off his clothes and cleaned himself inside and out, then dried off. Now he was faced with a dilemma: he had failed to bring any nightclothes with him. He could go out there in his Y-fronts or in his robe, or he could just wrap the towel around himself. He immediately vetoed the third option -- things were already embarrassing enough. In the end, he put his Y-fronts back on, then pulled on his robes for extra comfort, and opened the bathroom door. 

The lights in the room had been put out with the exception of a few beside the bed, and Harry swallowed hard at the implications behind that. The sheets on the bed had been folded down and Snape stood in front of it, wearing a plain grey nightshirt. 

Harry snickered. "No wonder you've never gotten laid, if that's what you wear to bed." 

Snape glared at him. "And I suppose what you're wearing is so much better?" 

Harry glared back and unfastened his robes, letting them drop to the floor so that he stood clad only in his Y-fronts. He felt smugly satisfied as Snape's eyes widened and involuntarily flicked down his body. Then Snape jerked his eyes away and Harry could swear he saw a blush on the pale cheeks. For some reason, Snape's reaction boosted Harry's spirits. 

"You could lose that thing, too," he said, gesturing at the nightshirt. 

Snape's blush deepened. "I think not," he said firmly. "It will provide sufficient access for our purposes." 

Harry could feel his own blush beginning, and he cleared his throat. "So - how do you want to, um, start this?" 

"Having no practical experience in the matter, Potter," Snape said sourly, "I am willing to accept suggestions." 

"Well, Hermione and Ron seem to spend a great deal of time snogging before they, um, go off to...you know." 

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am reasonably certain that I have never 'snogged' in my life, nor would I care to start now." 

"It means _kissing_ , you git," Harry snapped. 

"Oh." Snape looked slightly disconcerted. "I suppose we could do that, if it's necessary." 

Harry moved closer to Snape, feeling more than a little uncomfortable at the prospect of kissing his Potions master. Although Harry had grown taller in the past few years, he was nowhere near as tall as the other man, and he had to push up on his toes so that he could reach Snape's lips. Snape shifted, obviously uncomfortable, and their noses smashed into each other. 

"Ow!" Harry clapped his hand to his nose. "What did you have to do _that_ for?" 

Snape rubbed his own nose. "It's not as if I've got experience with this, Potter!" 

"Well, neither do I, but I know better than to go bouncing about! Of course, it wouldn't be such a problem if your nose was _normal_ sized!" 

Snape looked affronted. "There is _nothing_ wrong with my nose! It is classically shaped and perfect for the rest of my features." 

"Would you just stand still and let me kiss you?" 

Snape acquiesced and Harry pressed his lips against Snape's in a closed-mouth kiss, then drew back. Nothing. He tried it again. Still nothing. "I think you're supposed to close your eyes," he said and, with a much-put-upon sigh, Snape did so. Harry tried it again. 

"Is there supposed to be a point to this?" Snape asked, irritated. 

"Well, yes," Harry said. "When I see other couples doing this, it seems to make them, well, hot." 

"The problem would be that _we_ are not a couple, Potter." 

"Of course, they do that open-mouthed kissing thing with tongues - " Harry began. 

Snape drew back, a look of distaste on his face. "If you think that I'm going to let you put your tongue in my mouth, Potter, then you have another think coming." 

"That's all right," Harry said hastily. "I'd rather not, either. I suppose we should just, um, get into bed then." 

"Right." As Harry started to sit on the bed, he snapped, "Other side, Potter. This is _my_ side of the bed." 

"The whole damn bed is yours," Harry pointed out grumpily as he got up and went around to the other side. "What difference does it make?" 

"It matters to me." Snape sat down and quickly lifted his legs onto the bed so his nightshirt wouldn't gape open. He shifted until he was sitting with his back against the headboard. Harry settled next to him and the two of them sat in silence for a long moment. 

"What now?" Harry finally asked. 

"Well, since both of us want to get this over with as quickly as possible, and since both of us will need to be penetrated tonight, I assume we should decide who, um, does the other one first." 

"Right," Harry said weakly. "Any preference?" 

"I'll go first," Snape said decisively. "You'll need to remove those," he said, gesturing at Harry's underpants. 

Harry hooked his thumbs in his briefs and tugged them down and off, blushing as he did so. "You _do_ have a general idea of what you're supposed to do, right?" 

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter, that I took the required sexual education courses when I was a student." Snape picked up a jar from the bedside table. 

"Wonderful," Harry muttered to himself. "That was only twenty _years_ ago." 

"Some things, Potter, you don't forget." 

Harry decided his best hope lay in closing his eyes and thinking of Quidditch. 

* * *

Snape tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, and pressed the cloth tighter against his nose. The sound of padding feet told him that Potter had returned to the bed, and he took a moment to wonder just where he'd left his wand and whether Albus would forgive him if he turned the Boy Who Lived into a newt. 

The bloody cloth in his hand was pulled away and a wet one slapped into its place. Snape winced and snarled, "Potter, you've already broken the damn thing! Don't make it worse!" 

"You are _such_ a baby! How did you _ever_ make it as a Death eater if you can't take a little pain?" 

Snape glared around the cloth resting against his nose. "Giving pain is vastly different from receiving it. Which I'd be all too happy to demonstrate." 

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Harry said hastily, settling back into the bed. "Would you like me to heal it for you?" 

"No!" Snape said sharply. "With my luck, you'd remove it completely. Whatever possessed you to flail about and kick me like that?" 

Harry tugged the sheet across his lap and glared at him. "You _jabbed_ me! _Inside_! What was I _supposed_ to do?" 

"You were supposed to _enjoy_ it, idiot boy! All the books rave about how good touching the prostate is supposed to feel." 

"Touching it, maybe. Jabbing into it like a pincushion _hurts_!" Harry squirmed a little in the bed. "The whole thing felt bloody peculiar, especially that scissoring bit." 

The blood flow seemed to have been staunched, so Snape gingerly removed the cloth and touched his nose. It would have to do for now, he supposed. Getting his wand to heal it would provide too much temptation at the moment. He set the wet cloth on the bedside table and looked back over at his reluctant bed mate. 

"Do you suppose we could try that again, this time without the blood-letting?" Snape asked sarcastically. 

Harry sighed and scooted back down in the bed, closing his eyes and spreading his legs. Maybe thinking about Quidditch hadn't been the best idea. He'd just lie back and think of England. 

* * *

Harry rolled up on one elbow and awkwardly touched the arm that was currently pressed tightly over Snape's eyes. "Sir, it's nothing to be ashamed of, really. I've heard that it happens to just about _everyone_ at some point in their lives." 

"It's never happened to me," Snape's muffled voice said. 

"Yes, but it really didn't matter before, did it? Not when it was just wanking. You're under a lot of pressure here tonight - we both are. And at your age, sir, it really is amazing that you can get it up at all, even for a little while." 

Snape lifted the arm enough to glare at him. "You are _not_ helping, Potter." 

"Shall I have a go at it, then?" Harry asked, trying not to betray the eagerness in his voice. He'd just been starting to get interested in the whole business, and it would be a shame to waste the stiffy he had. 

Snape sighed dramatically. "Might as well, just so this evening isn't a complete waste." 

"Right, then," Harry said, and reached for the pot of lubricant. 

* * *

"Oh, Merlin!" 

Harry's body slumped down on top of Snape's, his breathing ragged. Snape glared down at the dark head resting on his chest and grimaced in disgust at the wetness spreading across his nightshirt. 

"Well, that was certainly an inspiring lead to follow," Snape said dryly. 

Harry resisted the urge to kick the other man; right now, he didn't have the energy. "I'm seventeen, a virgin, and horny. What the bloody hell did you expect?" 

"I don't know, Potter. Perhaps that you could have actually managed to get it _in_ me before you ejaculated." 

"Oh, belt up, Snape." 

"I need a shower." 

"I need a drink." 

* * *

"...so there was Lucius, flat on his bum in the midden, dung all over his brand new robes, and wheezing like a pensioner. And Ogg is standing over him, glaring, and says, 'Mr. Malfoy, if you'da bothered to _look_ you woulda seen that those weren't no tits you was squeezing.' " 

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from spewing brandy over the bedcovers. He swallowed, then allowed his mirth to spill out. "Oh, I would have _loved_ to have seen that!" 

Snape smiled as he leaned his head back against the headboard, and he took a sip from his nearly empty brandy glass. "It _was_ rather splendid," he agreed. "The man has always been an insufferable prat, and his spawn is nearly as bad." 

Harry blinked and wondered if maybe he'd drunk too much brandy. "I thought you _liked_ Malfoy." 

"Potter, never confuse necessity with reality," Snape counselled. "I tolerate Draco Malfoy because I must." 

"Because of the whole spying thing," Harry said, then frowned. "I don't think I like you doing that anymore. You could get hurt, or even killed." 

Snape looked over at the young man sitting next to him, surprised. "Concern on my part, Mr. Potter? I would think that you, and most of your fellow students, would celebrate my demise." 

"Well, _I_ wouldn't," Harry said firmly. "You may be an insufferable, greasy git, but no one deserves that." 

"Thank you," Snape said dryly. "I think. In any case, it no longer matters. Once Voldemort learns that I was the one who took your virginity -- and he _will_ learn -- my usefulness as a spy will be ended. Hence Albus' concern on my behalf, that I lose my own virginity, in case I should fall into Voldemort's hands." 

Harry sniggered. "If we ever actually manage to accomplish that." 

He set his empty glass on the bedside table and looked over at Snape. He felt oddly comfortable with the other man right now, although he half-suspected it was because a large amount of brandy was circulating through his body. When Snape let his hair down, so to speak, he was surprisingly amusing, and Harry was enjoying his stories. 

Snape was sitting with his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and a slight smile on his lips. He was surprised to realize that the other man didn't look half-bad in this light. After his second shower of the night, Snape had neglected to put that greasy stuff on his hair, and it looked rather nice and surprisingly fluffy. Mesmerized, he reached out a hand to touch and was entranced to find that it was soft. 

" 'S nice," he murmured, stroking his fingers through Snape's hair. "Should wear it like this more often." 

Snape's mouth practically dropped open. "Harry?" 

"Mmm-hmm," Harry murmured, leaning closer. "I like it when you call me that. Severus." There was a bead of brandy on the corner of Snape's mouth, and Harry licked at it. "Mmm. You taste good." 

Snape groaned at the feeling of the lithe, warm tongue flickering over his lips. "Pot- Harry." 

"Severus," Harry murmured again. He pressed his lips against Snape's and decided that it really wasn't too bad, once you got used to it. 

Snape's hand flailed blindly for the bedside table and then, as Harry pressed him down onto his back, he simply abandoned his snifter over the side of the bed so he could hold onto Harry for dear life. 

* * *

"Severus?" 

Harry peered down into the face under his, blinking owlishly from both his own near-sightedness and the semi-drunken fuzziness obscuring his vision. The ear-piercing shriek his bed-partner had just uttered didn't _seem_ to be pain-induced, but he couldn't be certain. 

"Are you all right?" 

Snape glared at him. "Potter, if you don't _move right now_ , I'm going to hex you into next week!" 

Horrified that he'd somehow damaged his partner, Harry started to pull out of the tight channel encasing him, but Snape clamped his legs around Harry's waist and hissed, "No, you idiot boy! In me! Like you just did!" 

Eyes widening in comprehension, Harry thrust back in and watched with fascination as Snape's eyes rolled up in his head. Whatever he was doing, it must be _good_ to produce that kind of reaction, and Harry could hardly wait for his turn on the bottom. Not that what he was doing right now wasn't good. In fact, it was bloody brilliant. The heat and tightness and slickness of the flesh surrounding his prick felt so incredibly good. _Much_ better than his own fist, he thought, as he increased the speed of his thrusting. 

Snape was rocking and panting under him, his head thrown back, and Harry couldn't resist the pale flesh exposed to his view. He leaned down and sucked it, and felt Snape buck under him as he screamed again. Warmth pulsed between them, and the channel around Harry tightened. His own release burst through him and he cried out with pleasure as he emptied his balls into his lover's body. 

Harry slumped down onto the still-panting, naked body underneath him, too exhausted to do more than feebly turn his head and tenderly kiss the sweaty flesh under his cheek. "Brilliant, Sev," he sighed contentedly. 

"Do shut up, Harry," Snape's sleepy voice murmured. There was a sort of purr to it that Harry had never heard before, and he grinned, kissed Snape's chest one more time, and went to sleep. 

* * *

"Bloody hell." 

The irritated mutter, as well as the upheavals under him, woke Harry from a sound sleep and he blearily opened his eyes. He shut them again as pain assaulted his brain and moaned. 

"What happened?" 

"You fell asleep on me, you idiotic boy." Hands pushed feebly at him. "And if you don't move this instant, I shall soil the bed." 

_Right_ , Harry thought to himself, vaguely recalling images of heat and pleasure and Snape begging and swearing at him at the same time. That didn't seem right and he shook his head, then wished he hadn't. His damn head felt swollen and throbbed with each movement. Harry groaned and tried to push himself up, only to gasp at the searing pain in his chest. "Ow! What's wrong?" 

Snape glared at him. "We're stuck together, that's what's wrong! You didn't even think to do a simple cleaning spell before you fell asleep on me!" 

"Me? What about _you_? Why didn't _you_ do the spell?" 

Snape's glare intensified. "In case you didn't notice, Mr. Potter, _I'm_ on the _bottom_! It's bloody difficult to move with several stone lying on your bleeding chest!" 

Harry noticed with interest that Snape's accent seemed to be slipping, sounding a bit rougher, more common. _So Snape hadn't been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, like Malfoy?_ he thought, oddly warmed by the thought. It made Snape somehow more...approachable. 

"You fell asleep, too, didn't you?" he asked, grinning at the look Snape gave him. He glanced down between them and said, "Good thing we're neither of us particularly hairy, I'd say. Think a shower'll unstick us?" 

Moving in concert together, they slid off the bed, only to discover that the height difference made it impossible for Harry to stand without pulling their chest hairs uncomfortably. With a put-upon sigh, Snape hoisted Harry and carried him the few feet to the bathroom. He pressed Harry's back against the shower wall as he adjusted the water temperature, and Harry hooked his heels around Snape's legs to keep from sliding down. 

The position pressed their groins together, and Harry was aware of the hardness of his prick as well as the swelling of interest in Snape's. As the water loosened the stickiness between them, Harry used his legs to rock their bodies closer and heard Snape groan. 

"Mr. Potter, please." 

"Harry," Harry breathed in Snape's ear. "You called me 'Harry' earlier. I liked it." 

"Harry, the purpose of this shower was to get us _unstuck_ , not further entangled." 

"We _are_ unstuck," Harry murmured, "and now I'd like to be further entangled." He nuzzled at Snape's neck, enjoying the taste and feel of the taut skin under his mouth. "I still need to be fucked." 

Snape groaned again. "Harry, given the state of my head at the moment, if I had a choice between Voldemort and another go, I'd take Voldemort." 

"Take a Potion," Harry advised, continuing to rock. "I'm sure you've got scads." 

His mouth found Snape's and, with a groan, Snape surrendered. Pressing Harry against the wall, holding his lover's head between his hands, Snape proceeded to devour the eager mouth under his. And really, that tongue thing wasn't nearly as bad as it had sounded. It was rather nice. More than nice. 

Harry groaned and pried his mouth loose. "Take me to bed, Sev." 

Snape was only too happy to oblige. 

* * *

Snape lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, a particularly foolish grin on his face. Not that he cared; Potter was the only one who could see him and, since the young man was sporting an equally silly grin, the blackmail potential was extremely low. 

Harry lay cuddled up against Snape's side, his lover's arms wrapped securely around him. His head rested on Snape's chest, and his hand idly traced a pattern on the skin. "You're beautiful, you know. You shouldn't cover your body up with so many clothes." 

"I doubt that the rest of the students share your opinion," Snape said dryly. 

"I don't know about that. I've noticed _several_ people watching you in an interested kind of way. Malfoy, for instance." Harry frowned at the thought of anyone else touching his Severus. 

Snape snorted. "Draco is much more interested in kissing my arse than fucking it." 

"His loss." Harry's hand drifted down further, ghosting over his lover's quiescent prick. "Interesting to see that the old adage about noses and pricks is spot on." 

"Harry," Snape groaned. "I couldn't _possibly_." 

Harry laughed softly and turned his head to kiss Snape's chest. "Neither could I, actually." His hand returned to caressing the other man's chest. "Could do with a bit of a rest, though." 

"We can't sleep for long," Snape said reluctantly. "Albus is expecting us for breakfast, so we can give him our...report." 

"Oh." 

Harry was quiet for a long moment. Now that their night together was almost over, he found himself extremely reluctant for it to end. In the morning, they would have to go their separate ways, back to their own lives, back to loneliness and empty nights. It had been all right before, when he didn't know what he was missing, but now that he _did_ know... And there were still so many things he hadn't tried yet. More than that, he wanted to try them with Severus. 

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Severus?" he said, lifting his head and looking up at the other man's face. 

"Hmm?" Snape looked pensive, and Harry wondered if he'd been thinking the same thing. 

"If Voldemort is so keen on getting my seed in him, do you think he'd try for, you know, oral sex?" 

There was an arrested look on Snape's face, and he said slowly, "He might at that. As an interim measure, you understand." 

"And I've never had oral sex, so technically I'm a virgin in that area. You?" 

"Mmm," Snape agreed. "The idea never appealed to me, and doing that to _Voldemort_..." 

Both men shuddered. 

"So -- just to be on the safe side, you understand -- we ought to do that. Have oral sex with each other. Just to be certain." 

Snape groaned. "Harry, I couldn't..." 

"Oh, me neither. I'm positively fagged out." Harry returned his head to Snape's chest. "Expect it'll take several hours to recharge." 

Snape wrapped his arms tighter around Harry. "Most of the day, in my case. I'm not as young as I used to be." 

"Couldn't possibly consider it till tonight, then," Harry said contentedly. 

"Right," Snape said, resting his chin on Harry's head and closing his eyes. "Nine o'clock suit you? I'll leave the door unlocked for you." 

"Sounds perfect," Harry said sleepily. "And you know, it might be a good idea to give the gay sex books a look-over. Just to make sure we don't miss anything that Voldemort might try." 

"I'll look into that this afternoon," Snape murmured. "Mind you, it might take several days to make sure we've covered everything." 

"Weeks, even." He snuggled closer to Snape. "If we're lucky." 

"Maybe even years," Snape whispered, on the edge of sleep. 

Harry smiled. He liked the sound of that very much.


End file.
